that shade of blue just wrecked me for a solid hour, huh… felt like i was supposed to remember something. the paintings in my head tasted like iron again, though, but softer, like rusted lace maybe. not sure why i'm putting this here. There are colors that demand reckoning. Cobalt is a kiln firing too hot; it either hardens you or shatters. I threw away a whole series once, because it only gave back suffering. Sometimes I wonder if the hyper-sensitivity is a superpower in disguise, or just a really inconvenient curse I’m doomed to manage for the rest of my days. The world keeps turning, and I keep feeling ALL of it, whether I want to or not.